


Reditus Domum

by Brenda



Series: The Lazy Hazy Summer Daze Writing Challenge [5]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, The Lazy Hazy Summer Daze Writing Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/pseuds/Brenda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's finally made his choice. Sequel to <b><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/909352">Prima Nocta</a></b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reditus Domum

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fifth day of the **[The Lazy Hazy Summer Daze Writing Challenge](http://azewewish.livejournal.com/1074772.html)** for [](http://greeniezona.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://greeniezona.livejournal.com/)**greeniezona** , who asked for present day Harry/Karl, "burn the boats back to who we used to be."

_Are you sure you're ready? she asked, her voice a velvet burr of concern. Her hand was cotton-candy light on his thigh, but the touch still burned like a brand. You know you don't have to do this._

_But he did. He had to, if only for his own peace of mind. If only to start repairing the shattered pieces of his soul, left scattered like so much detritus, so much debris, across time and space, lost to the ages. He had to, if only so he could finally face himself again._

_I've been running long enough, he told her, and the way she turned in his arms and buried her face in his shoulder was all the answer he needed that he'd finally made the right choice. He held her close, whispering endearments he hoped she'd hear, and felt the tears roll down his cheeks._

_When he woke, alone and clear-eyed, he did so with the full knowledge of what he was about to do. He let the weight of his decision, his choice, settle around him like an anchor; only instead of pulling him under, it was pulling him where he needed to be._

***

If Karl was surprised when Harry showed up on his doorstep, so many years and far too many mistakes later, he did a great job of hiding it. Instead of recriminations, accusations, shouts or curses, all Karl did was eye him up and down and give a quick jerk of his head.

"I expect you'll be thirsty," he said, and disappeared into the house like a shadow or wraith.

Harry stood there for a moment, feeling as helpless as always where Karl was concerned, for a long handful of moments that stretched into the empty infinity of his life, his conviction fading like a gossamer-thin tower...

He shook himself, straightened. No more. He wasn't helpless. He was _choosing_ this time. This time, he was laying waste to who he used to be, he'd battle the odds, himself, whoever stood in his way.

He took that irrevocable step, shut the door behind him, and followed Karl down the hall and into Karl's still spacious kitchen. There were two bottles of VB sitting on the island, and Karl was leaning against the furthest counter, watching him out of eyes that betrayed nothing, and yet, somehow, gave away everything worth seeing.

Once, Harry had been enthralled, enslaved, trapped by those eyes, helpless under their power. It was only now that he realized how much Karl had given away all those years ago, how transparent he'd been, how much he'd sacrificed, how much Harry had refused to see because he'd been blinded and struck dumb by dread.

The years had been more than kind. Karl had always been beautiful, and Harry'd known from the moment they'd met that Karl's beauty had been of the bones, of the soul, and that no amount of aging or years would dim it. Still, Karl looked fit, lean and muscular, his dark hair cut short, showing off that angular face. A face that, Harry knew, if Karl was particularly pleased or chuffed, housed twin dimples on either side of his mouth.

That mouth, however, was in a straight, firm line at the moment, also giving nothing away. Then Karl nodded at the bottles.

"You drinking or not?"

Harry swiped one simply to have something to do with his hands. Nerves, ever Harry's personal nemesis, started fluttering around like so many butterflies in his stomach. He tamped them down with ruthless efficiency. He'd learned a few tricks over the years. He'd had to just to survive.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?" he finally asked, after taking a small sip, letting the bitter taste of hops settle on his tongue.

One shoulder lifted in an attempted shrug. "Does it matter?"

Time for another truth. In fact, it was well past time. "I dunno. Does it matter?"

That dark gaze narrowed, but Harry still saw the flutter. Saw and rejoiced, because he knew what it meant. But Karl's voice was mild enough in reply. "I suppose it depends on why you came back to start with."

Too long, Harry'd been at the whim of inertia, of fear. Too long, he'd been haunted by ghosts, by his own inabilities, crippled by his weakness, chained by doubt. Well, no more and never again.

His palms were damp, but he didn't dare wipe them on his jeans. He wanted no signs of nervousness. He'd be damned if he'd give Karl any reason to doubt him. "I came back for you."

Simply saying the words lifted a weight off his shoulders, chased the demons into the night.

Karl's eyes widened a fraction. "Did you? And what if you're too late? It's been years, Harry. Did you expect me not to have moved on?"

It was a test, any fool could see that. Well, Harry didn't mind. He deserved it; hell, he'd expected it. He set down the bottle and rounded the island, stopped in front of Karl. Close enough to touch, even though they weren't. Not yet.

"You haven't," he stated, a declaration, sounding surer than he felt. "You haven't because I haven't, because you were right all those years ago, and I was too scared to see it. Too scared by you and what I felt and how consumed I was by what I felt. But I'm not scared now. I've made my choice."

This close, Harry could see new tiny lines bracketing Karl's eyes. He could see the new faint strands of silver threading Karl's hair. They were both older now, he reminded himself. And God, he hoped they were smarter.

"Does she know you're back?"

Another shuffle, bringing them closer still. Close enough Harry could see the faint flutter of Karl's eyelashes, could hear the faint rasping of Karl's breath.

"I came back for _you_ ," he repeated. "No one else."

Karl's eyes flashed again, and now Harry was close enough he could truly see it, see the vulnerability he should have seen years ago. "I won't share you again," Karl said, and the dark warning in his voice was a soothing, healing balm to the last of Harry's nerves.

This time, the promise was given freely, openly, and Harry wanted to laugh out loud with the joy of it. "I won't let you," he said, and caught the faintest trace of Karl's dimples appearing before Karl moved, eradicating the distance between them with a kiss that promised and punished in equal measure.

Harry let himself drown, and knew he was finally free.

***


End file.
